Date: Wed, 8 Nov 2006 10:22:28 +0000 (GMT)
From: Nathan Me <nathan7new@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: James 28

'James' by Nathan

Email address nathan7new@yahoo.co.uk
My stories are archived at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/nathansstories/.

This story contains material of a sexual nature and describes sexual acts
between adults and children. If you find this kind of material offensive,
if you are under the legal age to read such material or if it is illegal in
your country, please do not read any further.

My stories may contain some factual or autobiographical elements, but they
are works of fiction and any apparent similarities of my characters to real
people are not intended.

This story is protected by copyright. It may not be downloaded, copied,
printed or otherwise reproduced in any way other than for your private
enjoyment and may not be changed in any way without express written consent
of the author, me!

I hope you enjoy this story.


James: Chapter 28

James threw the ball to Darren, but Darren dropped the ball, because he
wasn't concentrating, he was looking towards to outside door. James
followed his line of sight just in time to see three men leave. One looked
back over his should and caught his eye. James froze. No. It couldn't
be. Here? How? Why? Tom?

The whistle blew for the end of the game, but James had already stopped. He
didn't understand what he had just seen. Was that Tom? If so, why was he
here? Had he tracked him down and if so how? His head spun and he almost
fell. Darren thumped his back as he passed.

"Good game, James."

"Thanks." James struggled to move. As all the others were now halfway
across the gym and he hadn't moved, the teacher shouted at him to get a
move on or he wouldn't have time for a shower. Chris had seen the last few
moments of the play from the other side of the gym. He was guarding a huge
lad called Cameron who kept on scoring. He also saw James stop dead,
staring after the men who had been with the headmaster. James had discussed
Tom with Chris and Sam, but not gone into any great detail. Chris didn't
get a good enough look at either of the men with the Headmaster to assume
it was him, but something had obviously spooked James. By the time James
caught up with him, some colour had already started to return to his
cheeks.

"You alright?" Chris asked.

"Yeah, just that last play."

"That all?"

"Yeah, why?" He watched to see if Chris had really noticed anything, or
whether he was just being a friend.

"No reason. You just seemed to freeze up and star into space."

"Just knackered."



As they walked through towards the boys changing room, the noise of 18
energized boys invaded the corridor long before they reached the door. Many
of the boys were already naked and moving towards the communal showers and
the pungent aroma of sweaty boys hung in the air behind them. There were no
privacy walls here, just a long line of showerheads down two facing tiled
walls with a gap for walking down the middle. James peeled of his sweaty
t-shirt and sat down to untie his trainers. As he bent over he closed his
eyes, trying to capture that briefest of moments as the men had gone
through the gym doors and one, the one who could have been Tom, turned and
caught his eye. Did he catch his eye, or was he just taking a last look
around? Was it deliberate or accidental? Was it Tom, or just someone who
looked like him? No matter how accurately James tried to recall what he had
seen, the face always morphed into a clear and close image of Tom: Tom in
front of him in the shower, Tom lying face to face with him in bed, Tom
sitting on the sofa cradling James' head in his lap and leaning down to
kiss him. He slipped off his trainers and tugged at his sweaty socks,
eventually deciding to roll them off instead. He stood up and slipped down
his gym shorts, kicking them up onto the bench. He slipped first one and
then the other thumb into his waist band and began to slip down his under
wear, but as the waistband reached his young tool, he realised that it was
standing to attention, stiff and erect. He immediately blushed. Was that
thinking of Tom?



"Come on, slow coach." Chris patted his back as he passed. James slid off
his underwear and followed Chris down to the showers, hoping that by
staying close, no one would get to clear a look at his hardon.

"James!" Chris was smirking at him.

"You please to see me or what?"

"What?"

"You got a stiffy."

James looked down and it was still sticking out. He faced the wall, turned
slightly

towards Chris so that the boy on his other side wouldn't get a clear
view. He was blushing, but as he looked up he saw that Chris too had an
erection.

"Look who's talking."

"Yeah, but I wasn't trying to hide mine by shoving in my mates back!" he
said laughing. James blushed again.

"Ok. Sorry. Just not used to showering like this yet."

"Get used to it. We could be here till we're 18."

James' erection began to disappear at that thought. He hadn't though about
what was going to happen to him in the long-term, just the next few days or
weeks. The home was nice, but did he want to spend the next 6 years here?
He again thought of Tom and his London apartment. Did he want to spend the
next 6 years with a man, living somewhere like that, doing that? He let out
a huge sigh.

"What's wrong?" Chris asked as he lathered up his chest and stomach.

"Hadn't thought about the next 6 years." James reached out to the soap
dispenser on the wall between them and began to slowly rub soap into a
lather on his own torso. "I hadn't really thought beyond the next few
days."

"Not like they're gonna give us much say in what happens anyways." Chris
ran the lather down from his shoulder to his fingertips and then back
underneath to his armpit. Then he repeated on his other arm. "They won't
let me and Danny go back with dad, or Sam with John, even when they get out
of prison. Pretty shit really."

James watched Chris lather his thighs and knees, as he started on his own
hair.

"Do we get any say at all? Could they just put us up for adoption or leave
us in some other rotten home till we're 18 and forget about us?"

"Reckon so." Chris lathered his balls and dick and ran his fingers through
in between until he felt his crack. His hands then went round in circles on
his butt. Then he stood in the flow of warm water and washed all the soap
lather off again.



Some of the boys had already started moving back into the changing
area. Darren was immediately opposite James, staring into space. James
watched the water part the boys black hair on his forehead, run down the
straight nose and over the ruby red lips to the boy's chin. From there a
small waterfall twisted and arched back, until it met a muscular
chest. Although Darren was only twelve, he was well developed and spent a
lot of time playing sports. His chest and abdomen were defined by tight
muscles. The water rippled over his six-pack and down to the small patch of
black hairs that were just beginning to define his burgeoning
manhood. James noticed that Darren too was sporting an erection. It wasn't
full on, but enough to show that the boy had at least a four or four and a
half inch dick. The water ran through the few black hairs, flattening them
and down the firm shaft to its end, where it once again twisted off in a
miniature waterfall. Chris prodded James in the side.

"Be more obvious, why don't you?"

"What?"

"I know he's fit, but staring at him will get you a name."

"Already got one, thanks: James."

"Nice to meet you, James. I'm Christopher."

James flicked soapy water at Chris, who backing off too quickly, slipped
and landed hard on his rear in the middle walkway. James stepped forwards
to help him recover, but Darren got there first and reached out a
hand. Chris looked up, smiled and took it. Darren's grasp was firm, solid
and reassuring. Their eyes met and something, Chris thought, for just a
moment, something connected.

"You ok?" James asked.

"Fine." Darren still had hold of his hand. Slowly, he let go, but held eye
contact a little too long to be coincidental. Chris blushed. James pushed
him gently from behind and the three boys, the last three, walked back to
dry off and dress in the changing room.



The rest of the morning was uneventful. James was lost in his own private
dream world. When Mr Arram, the history teacher, asked him who the man in
the picture on the screen was, Chris had to kick him under the table to get
his attention and whispered, "Winston Churchill" to him. At lunch he almost
tripped over Darren and by dinner Mr Spiller had a note on his desk that
James seemed out of it today and might need someone to check on him. The
counsellor climbed up to the common rooms, hoping to catch James there, but
quickly established that no one had seen him. He climbed up to the senior
dorm corridor and along to the boy's room. James wasn't there either, but
Sam was.

"Hi, Sam. Everything all right with you? Any more problems?"

"No, I'm fine."

"How are you and the others settling down now the main police interviews
are out of the way?"

"I just wish I had called the police sooner and stopped it all."

"What you did, Sam, was very brave. No one blames you and we can only
imagine how hard it was to do that, with your father being involved too."

"But I always knew it was wrong, so I should have done something before."

"Sometimes it takes a long time for us to see what we should
do. Afterwards, with hindsight, it all seems so clear, so black and white,
but when you're in the middle of it, it can be a lot harder to know what to
do. You really are the hero here, Sam. I'm sure the others know that too."

"I don't feel like no hero. And now, well, what future do any of us have."

Mr Spiller pulled out a chair and sat facing the young teen, "Sam, I am not
going to say that everything will be wonderful. I guess you might be
missing your father and confused because although you love him, he was also
involved and partly responsible for all this mess. What I do know is that
once the things that are holding you back are removed, other things, other
possibilities eventually present themselves and life becomes pretty much
what you make of it. Your teachers tell me you are a bright, intelligent
and thoughtful boy with great potential. Add to that brave and resilient,
which you have already proved, and I think that is a recipe for a bright
and fulfilling future. You can achieve and be what you want to be in the
future. I was an orphan and grew up in a children's home and look at me
know: I'm married with children; I have a degree in child psychology and
doing a job I really enjoy." He reached out and placed a reassuring hand on
Sam's shoulder. "I know that just now everything seems so difficult, but I
have also noticed how close you and James are. It seems that although you
met in difficult circumstances, the two of you have become firm friends."

"I guess."

"So already, positive things are beginning to happen for you. If stuff
really gets on top of you, come and see me. I really mean that. I don't
want you to have to struggle through this alone, not talking or sharing. I
will always listen and Sam, I know that some of the stuff that went on you
didn't like, but I also know that a lot of it will still be in your head
and confusing you. If you want to talk about that stuff too, you can. I
don't get embarrassed by sex talk or difficult questions."



Sam went red, but nodded anyway.

"Ok, so really, anytime."

"Why do I have to talk to that psychologist?"

"Sam, the truth is that although I can discuss anything with you, what you
boys have been through could have done real harm to you not just
physically, but to your belief about who you are and your relation to the
world around you. Sometimes, it needs someone with expertise in that area
to help you get past those experiences. Dr Harcross is only there to help
you all do that. We want to help you as much as we can, so we asked him to
have a chat with you all and see if there was anything else we needed to do
to help you. He is very good at helping people get over bad experiences. He
even spoke to my kids when their granddad died last year."

"It just seems like everyone wants a piece of my life. I have to tell it
over and over and over."

"Not if you don't want to. I am sure Dr Harcross won't press you to talk
about anything you really don't want to."

"So if I don't want to see him I don't have to?"

"Well, I guess." He watched the boy pick his nails nervously. "But, please,
give it a couple of sessions first, just to see if it could be any help to
you. Will you do that?"

"I guess." The young teen shrugged and offered the man a week smile. He was
actually starting to like Mr Spiller and that was unusual. Sam really
didn't like men much at all.

"Oh, by the way, have you seen James anywhere? I need to talk with him
too." By adding the 'too' he hoped he had disguised the fact that he hadn't
really come to talk to Sam at all. He knew how fragile the boys were after
everything they had been through and the recent problem at the school only
made it worse. This was supposed to be a safe place, not where they
suffered even more. He was feeling very bad about it, even though it was
not his fault.

"I think he went for a walk in the gardens."

"Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow, Sam, and remember, absolutely anything at
all. Ok?"

"Ok."


More to come...